


Complex Love

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Complex Love

“So, Harry, I watched some videos of you guys on tour the other night,” James started out, the audience on the edge of their seats. This was the first ever live interview the Late Late show had hosted, so it was a pretty big deal.

They were given the usual run down just before they went out; Don’t mention religion, don’t say anything political, don’t mention “Larry Stylinson”, don’t mention Selena, and don’t screw up.

“-And I saw a video of Louis squirting silly string onto Liam, and some of it got into your hair, Harry. Was it had to get out?” James had successfully swung the conversation from a lousy goof up Niall had made about Barack Obama, so Harry felt calm answering.

“Don't worry, it’s not the only thing that gets shot into my hair,” Harry replies easily, not understanding his slip up until James sends him the most upfronted look and Liam’s face turns white as a sheet.

“That’s a wide range, mate,” Louis tried to save him, but it was too late. All his comment did was fuel the sudden shouts of the shocked audience. Their PR manager made a frantic cut-off motion towards the producer, who gestured to James the same.

“Alright, boys. I think that’s all the time we have today,” James practically shouted over the outrage taking place in the distraught audience. The red light flickered off and they were immediately shuffled out of the building.

It’s all happening too fast for Harry to keep up with, one second they’re on James sofa and now they are being herded to God knows where. And it’s not like he couldn’t have played it off as another slip up, for fuck sake.

He’s made them in the past, and they’ve all been considered endearing.

“Where we goin’, Alberto?” Niall piped up once they were caught in the middle of a massive security mob, blocking out the huge disorderly crowd of fan/paparazzi.

“Emergency band meeting,” he replied, gruffly.

They were led towards two black vans with tinted windows and a flock of paparazzi huddled around them. Louis started to follow Harry and the other boys, but was instantly sent towards the opposite van.

It was all very overwhelming, so much that Harry reached out and latched onto Louis' hand, prohibiting them from being separated. It sparked the paps into a frenzy; flashing more photos than ever and shouting more obscure things.

Louis settled him with an even look, “Calm down, Harry. I’ll see you there, alright?”

It knocked enough sense into him to finally let go of Louis and be pulled away. Once he was sat in the van, Liam and Niall instantaneously began questioning him: “Where’s Louis?” “Are you alright?” “What happened?”

With a small frown, Harry perched his head against the cold glass of the window, eyes blinking at the harsh bursts of light from cameras. He didn’t feel like talking and even though he knew the boy’s deserved an explanation, he couldn’t get his mouth to form words.

He hadn't spoke since his stupid flub up, didn’t feel like he deserved to speak.

Then he goes and breaks at least fifteen rules in their contract by basically groping Louis in front of half of L.A. He’s not beating himself up over it, but when Niall lays a comforting hand on his back, Harry graciously shakes it off.

Harry knows he’s going to be in a lot of trouble, he’s basically ruined their five-year plan of gradually coming out. He’s pressed the fast forward button, and just wants to pause for a bloody second so he can catch his breath and-

He needs to call someone, or speak to someone, or do anything that doesn’t involve his other bandmates. But he can’t speak and he doesn’t deserve to speak after what his mouth has already done tonight.

And fuck, he can see a slight reflection in the window, three worried faces stare back from behind him; Liam, Niall, and their other security guard, Preston.

“We're almost there,” Niall whispers in his shoulder, still not giving up on touching him or reassuring him that no matter what, it’s okay.

Instead of getting angry, or shouting that it’s not okay at all, he finds himself leaning into Niall's arms, allowing himself a quick couple of teardrops before leaning away and wiping the evidence off.

Niall gestures toward the building outside as they come to a stop, he curls an arm around Harry’s waist, comforting him. While it feels oddly safe in Niall's scrawny arms, he can’t help but feel a small tug in the back of his mind.

He wishes with all his might that Louis was here, holding him as he breaks down outside of their managements office, probably about to get wrangled into more PR stunts and more clauses that restrict them even more.

“Hey, calm down Harry,” Niall whispers as they get out of the van, not pausing for the group of reporters prowling the edges of the building, Liam hugs his other side at they are escorted into the lobby.

“Is Louis here yet?” Liam asks Preston, watching Harry shake like a leaf.

“Sorry, boys,” Preston says mostly to Harry, “He’s not here yet, got stuck in traffic. They took an alternative route, like usual.”

An anger boiled over his self-loathing state, a pit grew in his stomach that made him nauseous, as bile rose in his throat as he thought of poor Louis. He wasn’t pissed at himself anymore, instead he aimed all hatred towards their PR team.

He finally spoke, a small murmur to himself, “Those fucking pricks, I can’t believe they are so worried about relationship rumours that they would separate us like that. Fucking pricks-”

“Harry!” Niall seems so relieved that Harry can’t help but feel guilty, “I thought you went into shock, Harry, are you alright?”

They are walked into the main conference room before he can reply, Harry and Richard sitting in pressed business suits like this is a regular occurrence. Lisa wasn’t there, which makes him relax a tad because he knows they wouldn’t make any drastic decisions without her.

This was Harry least favourite room, even with the open wall behind the long oval table. It looked out onto the night sky, the sun had set on the ride over from James studio in Beverly Boulevard to West Hollywood.

It was roughly a ten minute drive without traffic, and Louis van obviously took Vine street, but it felt longer when he was just sitting in the car looking out over the Los Angeles horizon.

The sunset reminds him of Louis, as cliche as that sounds.

But, the sunset itself doesn’t compare to Louis at all, in fact the sunset is glimmer of the sunrise in reverse. The sunrise is more like Louis, if he’s honest. The first light in the cold, dark sky. The patch of warmth, carrying with it the torch of a new day.

“So, Mister Styles,” Richard begins like he's rehearsed this, glancing down at a pile of papers/documents over the top of his skinny lens reading glasses, not prescription of course as there was no glare in the clear glass.

“Uh, yeah?” Harry says, not attempting to hide the annoyance in his voice, he knows where this is going and it obviously involves some girl that they are going to hang off his arm.

“This could have been played off, I’m actually very disappointed in you boys,” Richard says, like he’s their father, scolding them for taking cookies from the jar. It’s belittling and drives Harry crazy, but he opts to keep his mouth shut as Richard rambles on.

“It’s not just your faults of course, I blame that shitty PR manager you’ve gotten yourself. What was his name? Joel? He’s obviously fired anyway, piss poor way of handling a situation, cutting off the a live stream like that was so bloody suspicious,” Richard states.

“It was basically suicide, boys,” Harry Magee chimes in, finally speaking. “I was expecting one of you to bring it back before they panicked, but the only one who knew what to do should have kept his big mouth shut!”

Louis choice this moment to stride into the room, “Talking about me, gentlemen?”

Richard nodded, “In fact, Mister Tomlinson, we were. About how you handled yourself in the interview. You had the right motive, but should have shut the Hell up, son. You never know when to keep your damn trap closed.”

Harry clenched his jaw tight. Just seeing Louis come into the room had calmed him, but as soon as they started insulting him, Harry saw red again.

As Louis found his seat next to him, Harry considered speaking up. He really did consider sticking up for himself and his.. Louis. But then, he thought about the consequences and decided to silently send glares instead.

“Liam, why didn’t you say something? After all the media training you've had as well, I’d thought at least you, Mister Payne, could have pulled it out off your ass,” Harry Magee says, looking at Liam like he was Lana Del Rey denying him her sugar.

“I-uh, sorry, Sirs- but, um,” Liam fumbled, for once he’s not come to the rescue.

“You can’t pin this on Liam,” Niall said with a sad smile, “I should've said something once I realised everyone else was shell-shocked.”

Richard nodded again, “Yes, Mister Horan, you should’ve.”

Harry Magee looked at all of them, “Now, if this was all that had happened, we could have denied this no problem. Louis could have went out to Baby’s R Us with Jungwirth and Harry could have hit the town with that really sweet girl, Nadine Leopold.”

Liam and Niall looked surprised, with a quick, out of Liam’s guilt-ridden mouth “What else happened?”

Richard fakes surprise, “You don’t know, Liam? Why, it’s all over the news, in fact the paparazzi already sent us HD photos of it to pay it off. The other half have probably sold it to the Sun and all those other trashy rags now.”

He lifts up the mysterious documents that happen to be the most heartbreaking photo Harry has ever seen in his life, and he almost tears up again, but goddammit he had pride and he would not break just because of a captured moment of weakness.

It’s a well lit picture, due to the massive amounts of flashes, but the real story was Louis and him in the middle of the frame. The picture showed Harry, with clear as day hysteria on his face as Preston pulled his body towards the Van.

His hand was plainly seen gripping around Louis’ hand.

And Louis was mirroring Harry exactly, holding onto Harry for dear life as Alberto pulled him to the other van. It looked like movie snap-shot. Obviously, Louis was the hero and Harry was the damsel, as you could see the audacious look on Louis face.

“Woah,” Niall said, gesturing to take the photo, which Richard handed over with complete ease. He watched as they all ogled at it, and waited a few moments until he spoke again, giving Harry a look a homophobic father would give his son as he listened to him come out.

“Now, Niall and Liam, you can see why this might be harder to cover up with just a few public outings and some high resolution shots,” Harry Magee says, then manages to look completely startled when his phone buzzes on the table.

He glances at the message, then whispers something to Richard, they both nod in agreement.

“Alright boys, that was from Lisa,” Everyone whips their heads towards Richard as he speaks, “She just E-mailed us some news that will help along our plan.”

Lisa was the head of the US Modest! department, taking over where Richard and Harry were incapable. Overall, she was nice and came to the rescue with a lot of bullshit that the boy’s managed to get them into.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, eyes drooping.

Richard looks between Louis and Harry, “What type of relationship do you guys have?”

Sputtering out a response, Harry can barely breathe, he gets out, “We’re not together.”

“I don’t feel like that’s any of your business, gentlemen,” Louis says at the same time, fixing them with a stern glare.  
Harry Magee gives Louis a glare right back, “Listen, young man, this is very important information and if you can’t handle grown up talk that might affect the rest of the lads careers, then you can go stand in a corner like the brat you’re being.”

Huffing out a breath of fresh air, Louis decides to answer honestly, “We are not dating if that’s what you assume, just like the last you asked us.”

Richard sighs, “I’m not going to spell it out, boys. What kind of relationship do you two have at this moment?”

Louis looks at Harry, an apologetic look on his face before he turns back to their management, “We have casual sex, sometimes.”

Harry glances at Louis, pure betrayal in his eyes. They had sworn not to tell anyone about their arrangement, last night Louis even talked about it.

Harry was curled under the silk sheets of Louis bed, naked but free.

Louis had flipped onto his side from where he was starfishing the Western King, burying his head against Harry’s nape and biting the sweaty skin there teasingly, “This is our secret, Hazza. You're my best friend and my best fuck.”

Harry had smiled his toothy grin, usually resigned for just Louis, and turned around to face him. He’d draped his arm over Louis bare body, given him, a cheeky once over then replied, “You're my best friend, too. But I’ve seen better libido on thirty-two year old women.”

It, of course, led to a victorious tickle battle, Harry always wins those, but what now?

Louis had just told their management they had been casually sleeping together and the bastards didn’t even look surprised. Actually, they looked pleased, the sadists.

“Alright, boys. We were hoping for some silly crushes but lucked out even better, we’d now like to introduce our plan,” Harry Magee says, legit delight in his snake eyes, “It’s called, everybody gets’s what they want.”

The boy’s looked on with mild suspicion, before questioning them with curious eyes.

“It’s pretty simple, we know you both are trying the whole, coming out casually, thing with our PR department right now, but drastic times call for drastic measures. You have one more year under contract stating that if you even mention you might like the opposite gender to anyone who

hasn’t signed a nondisclosure agreement, we can sue you off your asses. Hell, we could take all your money and then some, but that’s not the point. The point is that we can make that specific sexuality disclosure contract “disappear” if you agree to the

following. We actually want you both to come out to the public, within a week. And before you start jumping for hooray, here’s the ultimate catch. The only way we could casually make you come out is if you both are in some type of relationship,” Richards says.

“How does that make sense?” Louis asked, confused but excited.

“We want the public to maintain their image of you, boys. If we tell them that two of you like men as well as women, we are going to have serious backlash, we don’t care if it is 2015,” Harry Magee says.

“The media will not only analyse all your female attention, but they will now do the same to your male. Harry, do you like having this womaniser persona?” Richard looks at him and the rest of the band do the same.

Feeling their heated glances, Harry shoots out a short, “No.”

“Imagine the pressure you feel right now but doubled, Harry. Think of how you have to be careful with how you hug your female friends, now imagine doing that with your male friends as well,” Richard looks bored now, looking at Harry expectantly.

“Yeah, that would- uh, suck,” Harry mumbles.

“Exactly. Your poor friend Nick Grimshaw could never hang out with you, or Ed Sheeran for that matter. That would suck, huh? That’s why we need this relationship filler, it would stop the crazy rumours and create a sort of love story,” Richard says.

“A love story?” Liam asks, he’s still feeling guilty for messing up the interview, and for freezing up like a snowman, but there is an offer on the table and he feels intrigued.

“Yes. The story we could spin would be one for the history books, one of forbidden love and heartbreak, and it would bring in so much money,” Harry Magee informs, “The biggest PR stunt of the century.”

“What? Me and Harry in a relationship?” Louis almost laughed, because he got it, although no one else seemed to.

“Yes.” Harry Magee repeats, “Brilliant, isn’t it? You both get to come out, we can spin the story exactly how we want it, and there is no bad media lighting on this. Well, except for a bad reputation in the industry, but people forget..”  
Harry couldn’t believe his ears. He voiced his opinions, “What if we decline?”

“Might I remind you, boys of the exact rules, you broke tonight?” Harry Magee said, tapping his pen against the wooden table, irritating Harry to no ends. He can imagine Effie Trinket coming in and screaming that it was mahogany, forcing him to quit.

“You touched each other for more than necessary, you spoke directly towards each other without a prompt, and you had to be publically restrained because you disobeyed your security,” Richard said, looking towards Preston and Alberto in the corner of the room.

“And your point is?” Louis asks.

“At this point, we have two options. You can come out together, or wait another five years, your choice,” Richard smiles, causing the air to whoosh out of Harry’s chest.

How could he wait another five years to come out? He was already breaking now, imagine ten years of hiding himself, of being ashamed every time he felt anything other than platonic brotherhood with another male.

Liam seemed to see his concern, “Listen, I think this plan is completely reckless. Do they stop lying about their sexuality with more lies? Isn’t that fucked up?”

“Mister Payne, is this really your decision?” Harry Magee asks, “I mean, think about how absolutely terrifying it is for other celebrities to come out by themselves, wouldn’t it be better to have a best friend going through it with you?”

“I’m not opposed,” Harry says.

Louis looks at him with surprised eyes, “Harry, you can’t possibly agree with this horrible idea!”

With a huff, “I’m not agreeing. I'll need to get my Lawyer to look over the contract before I sign it, and we’ll need to talk about it as well, Lou. I’m just saying, if there's anyone I’d want to face the world with, it would be you.”

“You should put that into a song,” Louis mutters, looking down at his hands.

“Do we have a deadline?” Harry asks, completely ignoring Louis, “I mean, when do we have to decide by?”

“Tomorrow, at best, Mister Styles,”Harry Magee said, popping a tic-tac into his mouth.

“Okay,” Liam says, “I think we should get back to our houses to think things over, don’t you agree boys?”  
“Yeah, let’s go,” Niall said, standing up and giving Richard and Harry back the pictures.

With a small smirk, Richard refuses the photos, “Why don’t you keep those, Mister Horan? Help you remember what caused this entire fiasco, alright?”

Everyone was shuffling out the door when Richard called back for Harry, “Stay back, won’t you Mister Styles, we need to have a talk and I can give you the contract to look over.”

Louis gave him a worried look, but Harry brushed it off, he stood in the doorway and waited for the other boys and security to leave before he closed the door. He came back over to the oval table, sat in the middle where Liam was previously sat, and looked them both in the eyes.

“Yes, Sirs?”

“Harry, we know about your feelings towards Mister Tomlinson,” Harry Magee says, fiddling with a crème coloured file.

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

Harry Magee leant forwards, a thoughtful expression on his face, “We know you want to be romantically involved with Louis. You have had these feeling for a while, yeah?”

In shock, Harry replied, “How do you know about that?”

Harry Magee opens the beige file he’d been fidgeting with, inside he pulled out crisp white sheets of paper, and revealing photos. It, was shocking, as much as it was meant to be. He knew that their management monitors their phones, but never to this extent.

“Harry, you sent a text a text earlier this year to your sister, saying the following; I’m so fucked up, if only Louis were here. I love Louis so much, Can Louis marry me?; and other messages that we aren’t going to read,” Richard reads off of a document.

“Okay, so what does this mean?” Harry says, red covering his cheeks.

“We want you to convince Louis to sign the agreement, “Richard says, “Then over time, he could begin to replicate those same feelings, Harry. It’s a win, win.”

He was handed the full copy of the contract, then dismissed, left to think about the decisions he was about to face.

So, he needs to call someone, anyone in his contacts just to get a touch of reality. It shouldn’t be a shock to anyone when Harry slides down the wall opposite of the conference room and rings Nick Grimshaw.

Nick and himself have a deep understanding of each other, one that he and the lads have but he can confide himself to Nick and not get a biased opinion. Nick was not perfect, be he was a friend, and a goddamn good one at that.

“Hello? Nick Grimshaw, radio personality and best shag in the universe, speaking,” Came Nick's voice across the line, it caused a small chuckle to escape his lips and brightened his subdued mood.

“Best shag in the universe, eh?” Harry grinned, biting his cheek.

“You would know, Harold. Honestly, it’s like you're the old man in our relationship, sometimes, with how much you bloody forget things,” Nick teases.

“Actually, you’re the old man, with your dementia making up things and what not. I wouldn’t touch your crusty asshole with a ten-foot pole,” Harry laughs, making Nick burst out with a squawk that the poshest of goose would be jealous of.

“You’re breaking my heart, Harold,” Nick resigns, “Now, why did you call me and my crusty self?”

“Can’t I call you without a reason?”

Nick snorts, “You’ve got Tomlinson to do that with, and don’t say no, I know I’m your second choice, Harry. Now, be honest and tell grandpa what's going on.”

“Have you seen the news yet, or been on twitter for that matter?” Harry asks, biting a hangnail off his thumb and listening to Nick shift around. He hears a burst of sound, probably the telly, as he waits for a response.

He hears the unmistakable sound of Maria Menounos, host of E! news, voice before he listens to the actual words she is saying.

“Are bandmates, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, of One Direction in a secret relationship? They just might be! As, Styles makes a sperm joke, on The Late Late show, the broadcast is suddenly stopped and the could-be-couple are torn apart by their team.”

Nick mutes the telly, “What the fuck, Harry?”

“Listen, mate, our team has agreed to let us come out, as soon as next week,” Harry answers, not at all surprised that it’s all over the news already.

Nick laughs, “That great news, Harold. You’ll have to jump over the pond to come see me, Harry, so we can go out to celebrate. Rita's going to be so happy for you, darling, she’ll demand we go to a gay bar.”

Harry wetly chuckles, he hadn’t realised he’s started crying until it became hard for him to form a sentence, his throat was hot and he felt the wetness on his cheeks, “I’m so grateful for you guys.”

“Why’re you crying, Harry?” Nick asks voice laced with concern.

Sniffing, Harry answers, “There is a catch, Nick. We can only come out if- Oh, God. It sounds terrible, Nick.”

“Tell me, Harry, yeah,” Nick says, voice lowering in that special way he does.

Harry looks down the corridor, an elevator at the very end, the boys had gone down it and are probably waiting for him to get to the lobby. He’s the only one who has an actual house in L.A. and since they had just flown in this morning, they were all going to stay at his house.

“We can only come out if Louis and I fake a relationship, it’s a PR stunt, Nick,” Harry sighs hotly, thinking of his overall hatred towards publicity stunts in the past.

Nick hums.

“Do you think we should do it?” Harry says, “You know how much I want to come out, and they think If we come out with a partner, it will be less scandalous.”

The cell-phone twitched swelteringly against his numb ear, he quickly switched it to his left, sighing in relief.

“You want my honest opinion, Harold?” Nick asked, sounding the most serious Harry had ever heard him, like the breeze on a balmy summer day.

When Harry entered the Lobby, Louis sprung on him in a tight hug, it felt almost reassuring, even though he could feel the questions burning into his skin from Louis’ eager stare. Harry smiled feebly, face buried in Louis Hair.

When he looked up, Liam and Niall were looking at them with pity and sympathy. So, Harry locked his arms around Louis' waist and pulled him as close to his body as they could possibly get, he leans his mouth to Louis ear and whispers.

“Can they stop looking at us like someone died?”

Louis looked up at him with an annoyed tilt to his mouth, “Don’t ask me. They’ve been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since we left the office.”

“Time to go, boys,” Alberto called.

They walked outside, the winter-ish Californian air making their noses cold, it reminded Harry of summer back in Cheshire. It was invigorating and slightly soothing. Harry couldn’t help but think back to Nick's answer.

They were shuffled into one van, this time, Louis practically sitting in his lap, as they were driven to Harry's Tudor style home. The house had caught his attention, among many other possible real estate attractions, with its steeply pitched gable roof.

It was a short drive to his home, from West HollyWood to Beverly hills, and they were quickly pulling into his driveway. Alberto gave them one last smile, “Okay boys, we’re here.”

Louis crawled off Harry’s lap and slid out the door after Liam. They walked through the luxurious black metal door, leading into the mudroom. Like usually, everyone took off their shoes and coats, going into the living room.

“Alright, lads, let's look over this contract?” Harry says/asks, plopping down the hefty packet of information onto his coffee table. Louis sat down on the loveseat next to Harry, while Niall sat on the recliner and Liam on the ottoman.

“Why didn’t you boys tell us that you were fucking?” Niall asked, not beating around the bush.

Louis snorted, “Like that is any of your business, Irish.”

 


End file.
